


untitled ficlets (gen)

by wraith816



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-30
Updated: 2006-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-18 02:18:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraith816/pseuds/wraith816
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of twelve ficlets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled ficlets (gen)

**Author's Note:**

> A variety of short pieces written for prompts from stargatefic100 on LJ. It's a bit of a strange mix - some episode related, some angst, a couple silly, and one AU.

**Broken**

"I told ya that was gonna happen."

"Actually, you didn’t." As the wormhole collapsed behind them, Daniel stepped off the ramp and adjusted his rather crunched-looking glasses.

"Yeah, well, okay, but I did tell you that the natives seemed a little too interested in ’em. That’s what...the third pair you’ve went through since we got you back?"

"Well, I didn’t know the kids were going to think my glasses were some kind of toy. I mean, most of the cultures we meet don’t seem to use them, so I can understand a certain amount of curiosity..."

Jack rested a hand on Daniel’s shoulder, giving him a not-so-gentle push towards the door. "Ah! Post-mission physicals now, cultural lectures during the debrief, 'kay?"

The two made their way through the halls and towards the infirmary. Daniel still toyed with his glasses, a futile effort to get the broken frames to stay in place. Jack watched with amusement as no matter what Daniel did, the glasses wouldn't stay put. He tried not to laugh, but wasn't quite successful.

Daniel glared. "What’s so funny?"

"This is why you’d switched to contacts full-time before the whole glowy thing."

"Now, I know I wouldn't have worn contacts full-time because they bother my eyes. In fact, I _remember_ that I only wore them occasionally. Just like I remember that I don't like your beer and that you didn't date that redhead and that I never lost at chess as often as you say."

"You always believed me before, you know."

"Uh-huh, Jack. Whatever you say."

 

 **Days**

Daniel counts his life in days since Sha're was taken.

The first day he spends getting prodded by doctors, glared at by the brass, and taken home by Jack. Beer and anxiety get the better of him, and he sleeps. The second day, he wants to hit the ground running, go out there _now_ and find her. Doesn't care where they look, he just needs to be doing something. Jack, of course, demands he be practical and work on getting declared not-dead. He starts the paperwork they give him, and only thinks of her every few seconds. The third isn't much different.

By the seventh day, Daniel's living on caffeine and determination. And maybe more than a little anger. At Apophis, at Hammond, at the military in general. At himself. That night, Jack offers Daniel his guest room; Daniel declines, stays on base. At least he can work there.

He’s scheduled to go off-world on the thirty-fifth day, still one of SG-1's first few missions together. It's everything he's ever dreamed of: new discoveries every trip, more things to learn each time, and a team that's fast becoming friends, maybe even family. When he steps through the wormhole and finds no signs of Goa'uld occupation, Daniel's not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved.

Day eighty-seven Daniel spends hauling stuff up to his new apartment while Jack watches. Jack says he's 'supervising'; Daniel says he's being a lazy ass. When everything's finally in place, looking like a real home, Jack breaks out the alcohol and tells stories about his old military buddies, each one more outrageous than the last. Daniel laughs along, even at the ones that aren't all that funny. Before he leaves, Jack puts a hand on Daniel's shoulder, tells him, "This doesn't mean you’re giving up on her." Daniel almost believes it.

On day one hundred ninety, Daniel throws himself into translations. It's better than facing the fact that he hasn't found Sha're yet.

Daniel shows up at Jack's door in a panic on day three hundred sixty-four. Jack lets him in, waits patiently while he silently paces the living room, gearing up. After twenty minutes, Daniel stops and faces Jack, finally ready.

"I'm forgetting what she smells like."

"And I'm forgetting things about Charlie. This happens, Daniel; it's natural. It's been a year–"

"What if we never find her, Jack? What if..."

Jack shrugs. "You stay here. Stay with the team. Do your job. Know you did your best, and keep her memory alive. It's all you can do."

Jack leaves the room, going off towards the kitchen. Daniel sits on the couch and stares at a point on the rug somewhere. Jack comes back a few moments later, sits, and presses a coffee mug into Daniel's hands. Daniel takes it and faces Jack.

"Sorry I'm...sorry for this. Thanks for, you know, being here."

"Eh, just try and get rid of me." Daniel half- smiles at that.

On day three hundred sixty-five, Daniel keeps going.

 

 **Dependence**

Jack blinked and tried to make sense of the blur in front of him. His head felt fuzzy, except for the beat of throbbing pain behind his eyes. After a few moments, things cleared up enough that he could recognize Daniel's face hovering over him, concerned eyes peering down at him. Jack tried to lift his head up just a bit, but the worsening of his headache made it clear that that hadn't been the brightest idea. Daniel rested his hand lightly on Jack's chest.

"Whoa, hey! Don’t try to move yet. You were zatted. Took a fall, but not too bad. Sam and Teal'c got the last couple of Jaffa; they'll be back in a minute, and then we'll get you home."

Jack lay back down, knowing he could rely on Daniel.

 

 **Fire**

It's a quiet mission, with nothing but _exciting_ mineral surveys for Carter and _exciting_ cave paintings for Daniel. A good mission to ease them back into the swing of it. No Goa'uld, no man-eating plants, no overgrown sushi to kidnap Daniel.

It's dark already, and they're settled for the night, with tents up and campfire going. Carter is already chattering away at Teal'c over the latest fascinating something. Jack looks up and across the fire to see what Daniel's doing. He's taking notes, of course, with the fire lighting his work and his face.

And in that moment, it's like Daniel's burning all over again. Jack knows Daniel's okay, alive and real; he's right there, only a few feet away. But the memory is as clear as when Jack had believed it to be truth. He still sees the flame lick at Daniel's flesh, leaving a sickly-sweet smell Jack knows far too well. He feels the flash of heat and dread, and Daniel's screams for help are still in his ears.

Through the memory, with whatever small piece of himself that isn't caught up in it, he hears Carter gasp. She sees it too. That makes Jack shake his head, and things finally clear. It's not that planet. Just a campfire. Daniel, safe.

Jack stands and goes over to Daniel, rests a hand on his shoulder for the confirmation only the feel of a warm body can give. He covers it smoothly, says, "Daniel, you’re first watch," before he retreats to his tent.

When Jack finally sleeps, he dreams of the ocean.

 

 **If**

Jack shrugged on his jacket and headed towards the elevator. After what felt like endless hours of debriefings, he looked forward to being anywhere other than however many levels below ground. Home, some food, and his own bed sounded pretty damn good after the mess everything had become since that major had shown up on his roof. With a nod to the airman on duty, Jack hit the elevator’s call button. It was then that he noticed Daniel.

Daniel leaned against a wall, arms wrapped around himself and his gaze on a point on the floor, his long hair and ill-fitting flight suit signs of just how out of place he was there. The elevator forgotten, Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets and strode over. "Hey."

"You should've let me stay." Daniel didn’t look up.

"Daniel, they attacked the base; hell, they took Skaara. You're the closest thing we've got to an expert, the best chance we've got of figuring out why they attacked. The best chance of getting Skaara back. You know you're needed here."

"And that's what convinced me to come back to Earth in the first place, but...they're not letting me go home."

 _Home_. Jack didn't want to think about what that meant. "Hey, I'm sure that as soon as we get this thing figured out..."

"I left my _wife_ there, Jack. In the city. She didn't even know about what happened in the pyramid. You didn't let me go back and explain to her why I was leaving."

"There wasn’t time."

"You knew they'd do this."

"I didn't."

"You could've left me."

"I had orders."

"That didn't stop you last time."

Jack held back a sigh. "For what it's worth, Daniel, I'm sorry, okay? I honestly didn't know Hammond would keep you here. But you gotta understand where he's coming from. A hostile alien just took one of his people. He's just found out that I lied for you. Maybe when he's cooled down some...Daniel, I promise you, as soon as we've got this thing settled, I'll do everything I can to get you back to Abydos." Jack waited a long moment, and Daniel didn't answer. "Hey, military bases aren't exactly known for their comfort, and well, you can crash at my place tonight, if you wanna."

"No thank you." Daniel pushed away from the wall and went off down the corridor. Jack didn't follow.

 

 **Friends**

"Well, I don't know what I'm looking for, Jack. I haven't exactly shopped for a house before. It's harder to decide than I thought it'd be."

"What about this one? That was the one with the nice backyard, right?" Sam handed the real estate brochure to Daniel, and picked at her rather scary commissary fare.

"No, no, no, Carter. That was the one with the tiny, crappy kitchen. Daniel's not getting a house with a crappy kitchen."

Daniel scowled into his coffee mug. "Is this going to be my house or yours?"

"Hey!" Jack tried to look offended, but couldn't quite pull it off. "We're just tryin' to be good friends. You know, makin' sure you've got a good place."

Teal'c pushed another brochure forward and said, "I believe you enjoyed this residence, Daniel Jackson."

Sam set down her fork and peered at the picture of the home. She perked up. "Ooooh, that one had a nice kitchen. And it was in a good neighborhood."

"Hm...decent price, at least. The bedroom was kinda small, but it had that sweet finished basement, right?"

"Indeed. It is also a convenient distance from Cheyenne Mountain."

"Well, it's decided then." Jack leaned forward and tapped the brochure. "That's your house, Daniel."

Daniel set his coffee cup down, and looked across the table to Jack. "Well, I think you guys are right about this one, but since you seem to be so intent on choosing the house for me, _you_ can do all the packing. How's that sound?"

 

 **Healing**

They don't talk about it on base afterwards, and Jack doesn't even protest when Daniel follows him home; it wouldn't do any good anyways. They don't talk about it when they get there, or through their take-out dinner, when Jack pretends he doesn't notice Daniel cautiously watching him.

"Go ahead," Jack finally says when the remnants of their meal are cleaned up. "It's what you're here for."

"Get you to talk? I'm not going to make you. If you don't want to."

"For once," Jack mutters. He hangs his head. "It...it was Charlie. I can't...I don't know..."

"You're going to be okay." It's not a question.

When Daniel says it, Jack feels like it might just be true.

 

 **Who?**

He studies the things Jack kept for him like they hold the answers. And maybe they do, at least a little. If there's one thing he prides himself on, he remembers, it's getting a whole lot of information out of even the smallest detail. And all this stuff, well, it's a hell of a lot of detail.

He can tell that Daniel Jackson traveled. Everything in here seems to be from a different culture, different country. Daniel Jackson's interested in the past. So much of it he can't place yet, but he knows these things are very old. Daniel Jackson's well-read, or so the sheer amount of books there are shows. Daniel Jackson has a life here, even if he can't recognize it now.

"You've amassed a ton of crap, you know." Jack lets himself in without knocking, smiling free and easy like he knows he'll be welcome. "C'mon, you've been cooped up in this room for long enough. Me, T, and Carter are taking you out to get some real food."

Daniel Jackson has friends, friends glad to see him home.

Daniel smiles. "Yeah, I’d like that."

 

 **Spirit**

Jack knows that it's not fair to ask this of Daniel. Daniel, his best friend, and the only reason that he's held on this long. Daniel, who always believes that there's an alternative no matter how clear it is that there isn't one. Daniel, who is actually cut out for this ascension crap.

Enlightenment...ascension...those just aren't for guys like Jack. Guys who kill without question. Guys who hide behind orders to justify their actions. Guys who leave loaded guns where their kids can get them.

See, the thing Daniel doesn't understand is that Jack no longer has a soul to save. He left that behind a long time ago.

 

 **Brown**

And even though he's been ordered to take it easy on his recently-healed leg, Daniel rushes into the 'gate room the moment the klaxons sound. By the time he hobbles in, he has to dodge infirmary staff as they hurry about, carrying mud-covered men out on stretchers. The 'gate room is more chaotic than he's seen it in a long time, full of people, some standing, some injured, all of them covered in filth. He scans the room, looking for Jack, but it's impossible to tell anyone apart when they're all caked with oozing brown mess.

"Have you seen Colonel O'Neill?" he asks a passing airman. The guy shakes his head, and Daniel tries to tell himself that he's not worried. He pushes through the crush of people and doesn't care about the dirt he's getting on himself.

"Daniel?" He turns, and Jack's right there, just as filthy as everyone else and cradling his left arm close to his chest.

"Jack! Are you okay? What's wrong with your arm? Did you get SG-9 out?"

"Whoa, hey, slow down. Yes, it's just a graze, and yeah, we did; they'll be okay."

"You should get down to the infirmary then, c'mon." He takes a hold of Jack’s good arm and steers him to the exit. They trail mud down the hall as they walk.

Jack points to the mud covering Daniel's BDUs now, and says, "You're a mess, you know."

Daniel snorts. "You're one to talk."

 

 **Black**

As soon as Fraiser cleared him – for up and around the base, not home, damn it – Jack made his way to the locker room for a shower. It had been...well, he still wasn't sure about the timeframe, not when his memory still wasn't at one hundred percent, but he knew it'd been far too long since he'd been really clean. It had been impossible for anyone to stay even relatively clean in that place, trapped by false memories and the 'honor to serve.' There was ash left over from the fires to streak across cheeks and settle in hair and clothing and blankets. Grease from the machinery to paint hands dark. The filth and grit of living through an ice age. The kind of dirt that seeped through skin day after day to leave its black mark on bone.

When Jack got to the locker room, he wasn't surprised to find Carlin – Daniel – there. As Jack went to sort through his locker, Daniel muttered, "Hey," and pulled his shirt over his head. Daniel was fresh from his own shower, skin scrubbed to pink, with no more dark dirt covering him. As he got ready, Jack looked at Daniel from the corner of his eye. He almost couldn't tell they'd even been through anything, except for the fading bruises on his arms. Marks that had once been black and blue, dark as the soot that coated them. Marks Jack had put there during their fight. Jack looked away.

But Daniel noticed, could never leave stuff like that alone, and said, "Hey, it's okay. It wasn't you. Not really."

"Yeah, I know." Jack shut his locker and turned towards the showers. "See ya."

He heard Daniel leave as he started the water. Jack leaned against the tiled wall, and let the water run over him. He watched it swirl down the drain, tinted with black.

 

 **Home**

Daniel couldn't pinpoint the moment when Earth had become home again, but he knew exactly when he realized it.

They had taken Teal'c to the zoo that day; the team outings with him were more frequent now that he had proven he could blend in well enough. The four of them ended up at Daniel's apartment, the place new enough that he still hadn't finished unpacking. With some shared Chinese take out for dinner, they threw out ideas for the next trip to show Teal'c some aspect of Tau'ri culture. Sam suggested museums; Jack tried to pull rank and insist on a baseball game.

It got late, and Sam left to drive Teal'c back to the base. Jack stayed to help clean up the food cartons and dishes littering Daniel's living room. When he left, Jack patted Daniel's shoulder and said, "See ya tomorrow."

Yes, he'd see Jack tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after that. He'd see Jack and Sam and Teal'c. General Hammond and Sergeant Siler and Mrs. Coleman from down the hall. He'd see the base and his apartment, maybe Jack's house, or Sam's. And it would all be normal.

Somewhere in between work and his search for Sha're, he had begun to make a life on Earth, and really, Daniel couldn't bring himself to regret it.


End file.
